


if you love me (won't you let me know?)

by KeepCalmLoveSeverus (orphan_account)



Series: When You Say Nothing At All [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not betad, Work In Progress, betas dont love me, give me plot ideas, hahahahaha, i'm literally writing it out in AO3's processor as i go, marvey, no, people dont love me, pls, sequel to 'there's a truth in your eyes', sigh, someone be my beta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/KeepCalmLoveSeverus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey, as it turns out, isn't so brave in the daylight.</p><p>Mike never thought he would be <em>such</em> a coward, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you love me (won't you let me know?)

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "there's a truth in your eyes (saying you'll never leave me)"
> 
> Title inspired by "Violet Hill" (Coldplay)
> 
> This is a serious work in progress, and I don't know how often posts will be. I have a lot going on right now, between work and personal stuff, but honestly that just means I'm going to have more time to write. The question is whether I'll have the motivation or not, haha.
> 
> So, if you don't want to read it until it's finished. If you want to read what there is and comment, maybe with plot ideas or questions, feel free to do that as well!

Mike had never expected for Harvey to drop to his knees at the office the next day and proclaim undying love. Of course not, that wasn't how either of them worked.

Plus, Donna would have held that bit of pathetic over both of their heads into perpetuity.

Okay, so he didn't expect flowers and chocolates and all that bullshit. He _did_ expect more than a barked, "Summarize these by lunch," and a dropped load of brief files into his arms while Harvey did his best impression of someone utterly absorbed in highlighting what was, upon closer inspection, a back issue of the New York Law Journal. From _1995,_ i.e. completely irrelevant busywork to keep him from having to make eye contact and at least acknowledge that he wasn't going to acknowledge what had happened the night before.

Mike knew he shouldn't have been surprised, shouldn't have allowed himself to be hurt. Harvey did this to everyone (except Donna); he kept them at an arm's (or football field's) length and refused to admit any sort of attachment or commitment until he'd been backed into a corner, and even then he only did it snapping and snarling and threatening fierce retribution to whomever had managed to force him into that position.

It was usually Jessica.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised, and yet ... he was. Of course he was. He'd put himself on the line for Harvey, liquid courage or no, and Harvey had ...

Well, Harvey had given him the impression that they would talk about it. Try to work something out.

Mike should have known that was too good to be true. His life didn't work like that.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

  
Things continued in that vein on a steady downhill slope, culminating with Donna leaning over the side of his cubicle one morning a few weeks after the fateful ( _Stop being melodramatic, Ross,_ his inner Harvey sniped.) night and confession, the files she'd obviously been ordered to bring down slapping his desk with a resounding noise that he flinched from, for all it represented, and hissing in his face, "I am not one to use nerdy culture references often, but you hear me and you hear me well, Mike Ross: I'm not a _bloody_ _post owl_ , so you had better fix whatever it is you screwed up, because this is the one and only time I am coming down here with your work, and if you don't get it, that's not my problem." He looked up at her, really _looked,_ and saw that while her tone was harsh, her eyes were tight with worry. _Harvey is working himself to death again,_ that look said. _Harvey is being a stubborn ass,_ Mike tried to convey back with a disgruntled slant of his eyebrows and a deliberate pursing of his lips.

 _I don't care,_ her narrowed eyes snapped back immediately. _You broke it, you fix it._

And before he could do more than sigh in reluctant acceptance, she had whirled on one finely pointed four-inch heel and was gone in a cloud of that designer perfume she liked so much.

Mike stared woefully at the newest pile on his desk and shook his head, resolving to get that done first. Maybe it would put Harvey in a better mood. _As if,_ Mike snorted to himself.

Well, a better mood than not having it at all when he went in, at least, Mike reasoned.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

  
He didn't get the cases fully annotated and researched until well after seven o' clock that evening, not even stopping for dinner, but a quick recon mission let him know Donna was still manning the gates, which meant Harvey was _definitely_ still in there.

Ridiculous. Harvey never worked past six, and _Donna_ was _certainly_ always gone by five thirty sharp.

 _Balls._ This was going to be bad.

Swallowing heavily, Mike stepped up to the redheaded wonder's desk, rapping a few fingers in a nervous melody on the countertop. "How bad is it?" he asked, voice low, eyes darting uncertainly to pick up what he could of Harvey's profile. ( _Chair turned to face the window, that one ball he only holds when he needs reassurance because it's so old it's almost falling apart being tossed in the air. Shit, this_ was _bad.)_ Mike hadn't meant to cause this sort of uncertainty in _Harvey._ Harvey, the always confident, always sharp-dressed metropolitan man who never let anything he didn't want to to touch him.

Maybe Harvey wasn't gay. Maybe he'd just been pulling a prank on Mike and had immediately regretted it, had immediately distanced himself so that Mike would realize what had happened.

Or maybe he _was_ gay, at least a little, but just not for Mike. Not for the screw-up, the pothead, the fake-Harvard-graduate.

If that was the case, Mike resolved as he squared his shoulders, he could take it like a normal person. Everyone got rejected. It didn't have to impact their professional lives.

Clearing her throat, Donna looked slightly amused as she eyed him. "Not that I'm sure whatever you're thinking isn't _absolutely adorable_ in its earnest sincerity, but suck it up. He's not ... bad ... Just ... contemplative, I think. So go in there, have your little make-up sex session or whatever, and get me back my Harvey so I can stop staying here so. Damn. Late." Her last words were punctuated by the sharp closing of several drawers and the rustle of her skirt as she stood up. "And if you break him, they'll never find the body," she singsonged over her shoulder, everything but her eyes making it just playful teasing between friends.

Her eyes, though. Her eyes said, _I will ruin you, slowly and agonizingly._

Swallowing again, he tossed off a flippant salute before turning to face Harvey's glass door. A glass door through which he met Harvey's eyes, as the man had turned around at some point during Mike and Donna's exchange and was now watching the former with an intense but unreadable expression. One more deep breath for courage, and Mike stepped through the door without knocking ( _It would be pointless and awkward, Harvey was **looking right at him.** ), _ready to face the man he was _maybe,sortof,kindof, **inlovewith**_.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, kudos, and undying love all welcome. Firstborn children, not.


End file.
